“You were going to make Lippincott one of your test subjects?” “Seemed a waste to kill him outright.” “You’re a sick man, Doctor Death.” I wrapped my arms around his neck, careful to avoid his shoulder, and pulled him in for a kiss. “Positively crazy, I think.” “I am. Crazy enough to admit that I would’ve killed every person in that room a moment ago. I’d have killed Lippincott, Gilchrist—my own brother, if he’d laid a hand on you.”
